The needle repeats with imperfect persistence dotted thread lines, new meridians in cloth, stitches connections between constellations, binds warm lining to a curtain of stars; a seam that would only compliment the cloud-free night should it appear there suddenly crisscrossing the Milky Way. The spirits of the stars are with us tonight watching from the heart of the fire; sparks rise to the flue as you stitch a new cosmos together.